Creatures of a Day: And Other Tales of Psychotherapy by Irvin D. Yalom Page A

you had in that dream?”
    “Yeah, my therapist never fails to ask that question. I don’t recall any feelings. But let me try— happy when I first saw the ball game—that’s one feeling. And then some aching and bafflement when I saw I couldn’t play. If you want feelings, though, the other dream last night had some stronger feelings. Lots of aggravation and frustration. In that dream I was . . . I am in the bathroom looking at myself in the mirror, but it is all blurred, as though the mirror is steamed over. I have a spray bottle of cleaner, and I keep squeezing the last spurts in the bottle, and I keep rubbing and cleaning the mirror, but it just will not get clear.”
    “Isn’t it strange that you hadn’t dreamed for months before —”
    “I said ‘ weeks .’”
    “Sorry, you haven’t dreamed for weeks , and then last night, the very night before we meet, you have these two strong dreams. It’s as though you dreamt them for our session today, as though your unconscious is sending us some clues to the mystery.”
    “God, the way you guys think—my unconscious sending mysterious messages to my conscious for my shrink to decode. You can’t be serious.”
    “Well, let’s examine this together. Think of the major problem you bring here, that you can’t adjust to your community, that you are shackled by alternative desires. That you end up frozen, not doing anything. Right?”
    “Yeah, I’m with you.”
    “Surely the first dream speaks to that. Keep in mind that dreams are almost entirely visual and convey meaning only through visual images. So look at the picture your dream offers of your life dilemma. You want to play baseball, the game you loved as a kid, the game you had great talent for, but you can’t join that game because of your age. There’s another game there for folks your age, but you can’t join that game because you can’t get past the fence around the ball field. So, you’re too old for one game and fenced out of the other. Right?”
    “Right. Yeah, yeah, I see your point. Well, perhaps it is saying I don’t really know my age. It’s saying I’m foolish by thinking that I’m young enough to play in the baseball game. I don’t belong there.”
    “And the other game?”
    “Behind that fence? That part’s not as clear.”
    “Still see the fence in your mind’s eye?”
    “Yep.”
    “Keep looking at it, and just let thoughts about that fence drift into your mind.”
    “Plain old chain-link fence. Used to look through them when I was a kid to watch the older kids playing ball. And oh, yes, we had a class B minor league team in our town, and there was a little slit in the fence in center field where we use to watch the games before we got chased away. Ordinary fence—see ’em everywhere.”
    “If that fence could speak to you, what would it say?”
    “Hmm, a little Fritz Perls technique, huh? I remember that from my counseling program.”
    “Right you are. Fritz knew a thing or two about dreams. Keep going. What might the fence say?”
    “Uh, damnedest thing happening.”
    “What?”
    “Well, I hear a tune playing in my mind right now. ‘Don’t Fence Me In.’ You know that song?”
    “I think I remember a bit of it.”
    “Here’s the thing. Last week that tune invaded my mind for hours, and I couldn’t get away from it. It just kept playing like background music. I tried to remember all the words but couldn’t and finally went to YouTube and found a video of Roy Rogers riding his horse, Trigger, and singing that song. Great lyrics! Then, when I saw a computer ad to get the melody of that song as the ring tone on my cell phone, I was tempted to order it and clicked on it. I nixed it when I saw they were going to charge some goddamned outrageous monthly fee.”
    “Remember some of the lyrics?”
    “You bet.” Rick closed his eyes and sang softly:
    Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above
    Don’t fence me in
    Let me ride through the wide open